


Watch

by Auchen



Series: The Woods [2]
Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-20 22:48:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2445992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auchen/pseuds/Auchen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a day that Jane does not speak of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watch

**Author's Note:**

> A companion fic to my werewolf AU "The Woods".

“I say “wolf,” but there are various kinds of wolves. There are also those who are charming, quiet, polite, unassuming, complacent, and sweet, who pursue young women at home and in the streets. And unfortunately, it is these gentle wolves who are the most dangerous ones of all.”

—Charles Perrault’s version of Little Red Riding Hood

—

There was a day that Jane does not speak of. It started much like many other days in her life, when the trees called to her and she heeded their song to wander among the towering pines.

That particular day was between summer and autumn, when the world was readying itself for slumber.

The evening was cool and clear as she walked through the forest, peering up through the branches, waiting for the stars to open their eyelids. 

That was why she didn’t see it.

 Her toes collided with the hole first until her entire foot was engulfed in its invisible maw. Jane was thrown to the ground, the air pushed from her lungs.

She lay there for a moment, dazed and breathless. Birds called to each other. Looking behind her, she saw that her foot was stuck in a hole at the base of a tree, her ankle trapped among the tangled roots. 

She tried rotating it and sliding her foot out, but still it didn’t move. The teeth of the hole were locked closed. She flattened her foot and tried scooting backwards, but only managed in smearing the back of her dress with mud and fallen leaves.

Then the birds fell quiet. The leaves whispered against each other, and a silent, dark canid form slid through the trees. Its shoulders rocked back and forth with muscled power, and it fixed her with a hungry gaze. 

Jane’s heart hammered, and her fingers curled into the dirt. There was nothing to defend herself against the beast, but she could momentarily blind it with dust if worse came to worse.

But it came no closer. It stopped on the rise of ground above her, and just watched. 

Jane swallowed, trying to calm her heart, swiping sweat away from her brow. She probably reeked of fear. But she refused to drop her eyes from the wolf’s gaze. It was foolish, but she would not allow it to take her by her throat unawares.

The seconds crawled by, and the wolf came no closer, all they did was watch each other. Jane glanced down at her ankle, feeling that particular problem weigh on her more heavily than the animal staring at her.

She jerked her foot, twisting it back and forth. Jane glanced back up at her bestial companion. It--no, he--titled his head, and his eyes flicked to her trapped foot. His eyes were clever, and brightness shone from them.

She tensed her muscles again and pushed her hands into the ground. With all her might, she propelled herself back from the hole and was thrown backwards by the force of her push. Now laying on her side, she raised her head. 

The wolf had taken a step closer, and his jaws were open. Fear rose up inside her again.

But no.

The wolf wasn’t making to attack.

He was grinning. At what? At her escape?

He closed his mouth and started to walk away. He gave her one last glance, his too-bright eyes piercing her, taking her in. It was the look of the one who was starving, a hunger that cannot be satisfied by mere meat. And he left, just as he had come.

When Jane returned home, she received a tongue-lashing for stepping in a hole and dirtying her dress, but she said nothing of the wolf. It seemed something too private and strange to share.

Besides, her mother was likely not to believe her.

—

When the man first talked to her and he drank her in with greedy green eyes, she was reminded of her wolf. But she pushed the thought away, thinking it foolish.

She was wrong to ignore her instincts. The basest part of humanity recognizes the animal in all things, especially beings that dress themselves up in the guise of handsome men.


End file.
